ERIC'S POV
"But the more we go without an Alpha, the more we lose ourselves," she continued. "Baby, sweetie… please. I promise you, I will look for a way to break this curse."
"You've been saying that for years," I said. "You promised before Father lost himself too."
"I won't fail you like I did him," she whispered.
I studied her face—the faint lines of age, the quiet desperation she tried to hide behind grace.
"Mum… what way can you find?" I demanded. "Father didn't find it. His father's father didn't find it. What makes you think you can?"
"I was informed of a High Priestess," she said softly, "one who can speak directly with the Moon Goddess—"
"God, Mum!" I snapped, laughter spilling out. "Another phony? Another desperate woman in a white robe who'll take your money and whisper fake blessings?" I raked my hands through my hair. "How much this time, hmm? How much money until you accept there's no miracle left for us?"
"I will not stop," she said, chin lifting slightly, "until I find even the tiniest shred of hope for you. For all of us."
I stared at her. "Well, I'm done," I said finally. "No child of mine will be brought into this cursed world."
Her mouth parted as if to speak, but I turned, climbing the stairs two at a time, my chest tight, my throat aching.
SERA'S POV
My head throbbed. I blinked hard, vision swimming until the kitchen came into focus. The ropes dug into my wrists, the maid's handiwork biting into my skin.
"Why did you lie?" I hissed, twisting against the restraints. "I didn't tell you I was Miss Duvall. Why didn't you tell them you just assumed?"
The maid wrung her hands nervously, eyes darting toward the hallway. "I'm sorry, truly," she whispered. "But you don't understand, Mrs. Thorne can ruin my life. I need this job."
"Ruin your life?" I snapped. I tugged at the ropes again, my skin burning. "You realize I was nearly killed because of you, right?"
"I'm sorry," the maid whispered again.
My tears came faster now. "Please," I begged, choking on the word. "Just tell them the truth. My mum is going to worry herself sick if she doesn't hear from me. Please."
"What were you even doing here anyway?" she asked, suspicion flickering across her face as if she suddenly needed a reason to justify her guilt.
A sharp voice echoed. "Alice! Where is the girl?"
Her body went rigid. "Here, sir," she called back.
Heavy footsteps approached. The half open door swung open, and a tall man filled the doorway.
"Seraphina!" he blurted, eyes wide with shock.
Relief washed through me. "Oh, thank God! Someone who knows me. Please—please help me!"
But instead of rushing to untie me, his expression twisted into panic. "What the hell are you doing here?" He glanced around. "Oh my God, this is bad. This is very bad!"
I frowned through my tears. "Who are you?"
He drew a breath, smoothing his tie. "I'm a friend of your mother," he said quickly. "Benedict."
I sagged in partial relief. "Please. I have no idea what's happening. She—" I glared at the maid. "—she took me to Mr. Blackwood's room and locked me in. I didn't impersonate anyone, I swear it."
Benedict's gaze snapped to Alice. The temperature in the room dropped with the force of his glare. She shrank back, trembling.
He sighed before kneeling beside me. "The only thing I can do for you now," he said quietly, "is to inform your mother." His fingers worked carefully at the knots around my wrists. "Mr. Blackwood wants you here until we can confirm you aren't… pregnant."
"Pregnant?" I repeated, stunned. "Are you serious right now?"
He didn't answer, just motioned toward Alice. "You'll get her the morning-after pill."
Alice nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."
"Hang on—one second. Pregnant?" I blurted. My pulse thudded against my throat.
"Yes. Mr. Blackwood wasn't in his right senses when… whatever happened, happened." He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes dark with worry. "Why in the goddess's name did your mother send you here?"
"She hurt herself. She can barely move around. We needed the money," I whispered, feeling the burn of embarrassment rise in my cheeks.
"She could have called me," he said.
"You're a werewolf," I murmured.
"What makes you say that?"
"You said goddess," I replied. "Only werewolves pray to her."
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Smart girl." He reached for the cut on my forehead.
Before I could think, another voice drifted into the kitchen.
"Oh, you poor thing," the woman cooed, stepping into the room. She was radiant—dark curls cascading over her shoulders.
"Who did this to you?" Her gaze flicked to Alice. "Did you do this to her?"
"No," Alice said quickly. "It was Miss Duvall."
"I'm so sorry, dear." She moved closer, brushing a strand of hair from my face with surprising tenderness. "What's your name?"
"Seraphina," I breathed.
"Ben, get the room ready and make sure it's properly heated. It looks like a storm is coming," Mrs. Blackwood said.
"Of course, Mrs. Blackwood." Benedict inclined his head, snapping his fingers at Alice.
"Come, sit," Mrs. Blackwood said, her hand cool and elegant as she guided me to a chair by the counter. "Let me take a look at this." She reached for the wound on my forehead.
"Mrs. Blackwood, I just want to go home," I murmured, clutching my arms around myself. I was cold to the bone, trembling from the strange, electric awareness that had been building since I'd met her son.
"You will, dear," she said softly, as if she were holding back truths. "Just until my son calms down. He's under a… lot of pressure."
Mrs. Blackwood turned back to the counter, rummaging through a cabinet before returning with a bottle of spirit and cotton wool. "Hold still," she said gently. Her touch was steady as she dabbed the wound on my forehead.